[June 9, 2009]
Dear softrice fan:
Lover has the voice of a siren. For all my powers, I am no match for her melody. One word from her, and there is no sky too high or ocean too deep where I will not reach my love. In times of peace, her soft and precious speech has an uncanny ability to put me at ease and lull me to sleep. In times of war, her songs burn the fire in my heart brighter and warmer than a thousand and one exploding suns. She is the voice of reason and earthly compassions, spoken with honesty and sincerity. Lover is also the singular soul in the known universe that may speak for the Prince of Heaven.
People of the ancient order believed sirens to be the doom of mariners, when their fates intertwined at a point between sailing the oceans. The temptresses that were half woman and half bird would sing with their beautifully seductive voices, and the men would unthinkingly leap into the crushing waves to be with its source. It is said that sirens do not eat these human males, but they die nonetheless of starvation from living on remote islands and rock formations at sea. Ignoramuses from the greater community of stupidity would not comprehend such impetuous behavior, and so they associated sirens with the forces of evil. How would commoners understand, when you find perfection in a siren as I have in my water angel, that to be a moment apart is to spend an eternity in agony?
La Sirene is a modern French bistro by the Holland Tunnel, and the greatest BYOB restaurant in Gotham, which was exactly what I needed for my date tonight. I have always been an open admirer of beautiful women in the nude, and the luscious painting of a naked siren, which is really a mermaid to me, is precisely what the restaurant was named after and why it appealed to me. This enchanting work of art is the cover on their website, and sadly, would not find the same prominence displayed in the restaurant. I would have to focus my attention to factors other than what I found most attractive.
At 8:00 PM, I went to May Wah to pick Lily up for our date. When she was coming out the bathroom, I had remembered that I forgot to bring something. Lily cheerily asked if I had forgotten my camera, then she would happily skip taking pictures with me tonight. Perish the thought, I told her, and revealed that I forgot Carmen’s bar of soap and her gifts, to which she was disappointed now.
Lily asked if she could avoid taking pictures today, because she looked bad and was dressed terribly. I had seen her look worse, and we took pictures in what she was dressed in before. I did not understand the issue. I figured that if you knew you were going to dinner with me, you should have rested to look nice and dressed better to look even nicer, because certainly taking pictures with me is not a new thing. If you did not see it fitting to do this preparation work, then it is not my fault for the condition you are in to take pictures with me. Lily tried to point out that her pants looked ridiculous, and I asked since when was I able to take pictures down to where her pants are, when I was the one holding the camera to take pictures of ourselves. I effectively silenced her argument, and she agreed to take one with me at the end of our meal, for the album cover.
Lily took a good look at me while she was closing her store. She asked if I got a haircut. My response was, “How long have we not seen each other?” To which she quickly answered, “You need a haircut.” I did get a haircut!
On our walk through Soho, Lily deliberately led me through streets below Broome. Lily wanted to check out the stores available on these other streets, while she can recite the brand names along Broome. My confused companion wondered if she should be talking about her recent trip back from Costa Rica, to which I replied, “You do not have to talk about anything.” Refusing to stay in silence, Lily asked me about my weekend. Whatever I did, I blogged and she read already. I told her that she was silly, and she should be the one telling me what she did over the weekend, because she did the most.
The confounded Lily starts telling me that she will have dinner with Yee Nie on Thursday. I wanted to know what she had done, but Lily offers me what she will be doing. I laugh and continue with the conversation she started nonetheless. I revealed that I had messaged Yee Nie on Facebook, asking her about dinner, but she never replied. The righteous Lily said she would ask about that for me, when they meet on Thursday. I told her not to, because the only reason I was interested in gathering Lily and Yee Nie together to have dinner at Buddakan, where Vivian works, is due to lover asking about it somewhere. Seeing Yee Nie, or not, was not a true concern of mine. Lily joked that she would have asked, and Yee Nie would have said no, which would be their whole conversation anyway. I warmly smiled and repeated that it was unnecessary to ask on my behalf.
Lily muttered that she did not know why the postcard is not here yet. I thought she was referencing the postcards I had sent her from Seattle, but Lily corrected me. She was talking about the postcard from Costa Rica, which she wrote to me, but sent to herself (because asking for my address on AIM right there and then somehow did not translate into her remembering to write the same on the card). I inquired as to whether she liked the panoramic popup cards I had sent her from Seattle. Lily said she did and that they were quite cute.
I really wish I had remembered to bring Lily’s gifts. I even told myself to remember, before I went to bed yesterday. That somehow failed to remind me before I came out of my apartment to meet her. I asked Lily for her work schedule for the remainder of the week, and she surprised me by saying she will be at work Friday afternoon. I thought she would have been long gone by then, and already on her weekend road trip with the girls. Lily said something came up and she would have to meet with a client on Saturday morning, but it did not matter much, since she would join up with the rest of them at a party in Atlantic City. Since I get off early on Friday, maybe I can drop off her gifts in the afternoon then.
In Seattle, I got a brothel coin for Lily as our inside joke, and a Native American answer feather too. It is a feather, which you hold in your hands and ask it a question in your head before you go to bed. The next morning, when you wake up, you will have the answer to your question. Lily really liked the concept behind this gift, because she is always full of questions to ask. I offered that she could ask the feather who does she misses the most, to which it will answer, “softrice”.
Lily laughed and said I was crazy. I suspect she would have other questions to ask, like the whereabouts of an envelope with a grand of cash inside that has gone missing at her home. Lily thinks someone stole it from her desk. Her mom believes Lily threw it away out of carelessness. I offered my version of the truth and confessed that I had instructed her younger brother to take it with him to Taiwan, to buy me back a pretty girl on his month long summer vacation.
We move on to talk about what was good for dinner tonight. Lily said she had decided already. She wanted the escargots, mussels, and duck breast. Her choices for appetizers did not surprise me, but I thought she would have chosen the lamb leg for her entree. Lily said that looked interesting too, but these were the signature dishes. I volunteered to order the duck breast, so she can order the lamb leg, and we could share and try both, as always. She happily agreed.
I was the first to research the restaurant and study their menu. Even though seafood is the most well known at La Sirene, it is ironic that most of their signature dishes have nothing to do with fish. I noted that a favorite of customers was the steak and foie gras sandwich, with chips. I knew Lily had quit eating beef completely, but now she tells me she wants to quit foie gras too, because she believes it is cruel. I find killing an animal and eating whichever portion of it being ruthless already, so I do not see the particular need to avoid satisfying my acquired taste for foie gras. Anything short of physically abusing or sexually assaulting the farm animal that will become dinner on my plate, I am fine with eating.
Lily reveals that she will have to wake up early tomorrow morning, to drive her mom to the airport. I still did not understand why Lily did not simply reschedule her road trip, and go with her mom to San Diego for the weekend. The disinterested Lily explains that the hotel for Philadelphia is booked already, and even if she did fly to California, she would have to spend most of her time with Ying anyway, since it is for his graduation. Finally convinced that it is a good idea not to go, I say it is great to rid him out of our lives, even if it is only for the time being. I chirpily asserted that I would vacation with her to San Diego one day.
In trying to convince Lily to go to San Diego with him, Ying is low enough to use his hot classmates as bait, even though he wants her for himself. It is quite a pathetic move, which did not change Lily’s mind. It just sucks that Lily still goes to summer class with the loser, but she tries her best to convince me that she is learning a lot. I can tell that Lily is enjoying her course in Retail Management, which is reassuring. I simply do not like how she found a convenient time for the two of them to take it together. I wanted to take a class with Lily! The bastard stole my spot!
My never-ending problems come one after another. Lily continues her perverse quest to make me jealous, and delights on the recent attention she is receiving with the revelation that a stranger on Facebook asked how he could make her not single. Her reaction was, “Who are you?” The dimwitted idiot replied, saying he was more interested in getting to know about her instead. Unoriginal advances from members of my sex pains me. It is as if I was still a monkey as he is. I tell Lily to change her status. People seem to take it as the unquestionable stone we write truth on anyway. Lily laughs and agrees.
If there is one thing Lily should change on her Facebook profile, it is her dumb “About Me” part, where it says, “I wonder how people are able to lie to their loved ones without blinking.” I got a much stronger reaction that I had expected, and she raged on me, demanding to know if I liked having a loved one lie to me. The both of us had experienced through this and as much as I hate it too, I simply did not want her constantly reminding herself of this past betrayal. I rather she lived on happily ever after. Lily reprimanded me and said the information would stay as it is, because she would not like people lying to her regardless. Again, she repeated her interrogation and asked if I like having lies told to me as truths. She knows too well, what my reaction will be. Fine, keep the stupid profile as it is.
Onto livelier topics, Lily finally speaks about the Korean wedding she attended over the weekend. She liked how their traditional Korean dresses. I let her know that when she gets married, she can play dress up with traditional Han dresses too. Lily questioned if we had such customs, and I reminded her of the marriage scenes in the Taiwanese drama series, They Kiss Again. Lily says yeah, a traditional Han wedding ceremony would be nice. It will be.
One thing I do not get was why the photographer took more pictures of Lily than the couple getting married did. It sure seemed like Lily was more so the star than those two. Lily scolded me and said that was because she was his date. He is trying to ask her out too, and said she was the most awesome date. This loser has never met a girl in his life, so he told Lily that she was the most fun he ever had. Great, now he has lived a full life and can jump off the bridge now, I thought to myself. Lily did confess to one complaint she received though, which was talking mad loud after she got drunk. I personally dislike how Lily treats everyone else differently than me when she is drunk, which is basically how she would pose to take normal pictures with other people, but still remain conscious enough to take abnormal pictures with me.
Lily continues with her adventures at the wedding. Midway through their dinner, more than half the population at their table was gone. When someone told her, the others had gone to a less obvious place to do white chicks, her response was cool and that she wanted to see too. The dude hesitated and asked Lily if she knew what that meant. Lily now turns to me and asks if I know what it means. I stared at her, amused, and then said they were doing drugs. Lily said I was so slick. I am not, but even if you take the words on a literal level, doing white chicks would sound like having sex with a Caucasian female. I wonder how Lily processed the words through her brain to make it sound fun.
I urged Lily to do drugs with her party, stating that it is not as if she has never done them before. Lily rejected and said she did not find sniffing those things to be a comfortable idea. I mischievously asked if she preferred having the stuff injected up her ass, to which she said no. Apparently, Lily is only okay with smoking drugs, or would only like to use her mouth as the only bodily opening to intake these substances. Hey, that qualifies Ecstasy and Quaaludes!
After much interesting conversation, we finally arrived at La Sirene. Lily was hurrying me to go in, but I had to document the exterior of the restaurant by taking a picture first! She was hungry. I told her that she was always hungry before dinner, but would quickly fill up once we started eating our food too. The predominant color of the restaurant was red, with a wooden bench outside for sitting. I noticed the owner was outside, on a smoking break, and genuinely smiling to welcome the new customers he sees coming, and flashing with a camera too!
La Sirene
558 1/2 Broome Street
New York, NY 10013
212.925.3061
http://www.lasirenenyc.com/
We peaked inside and the restaurant was half-empty on a Tuesday night. The congenial waitress comes over and offers us any empty table we feel like occupying. Lily scanned the room and selected a cozy little table on the left side of the room, which was the middle in a column of three separate tables for two. The original idea was to be in an intimate setting, but the space was smaller than we had imagined. Lily did not like it. If your girlfriend is claustrophobic, do not bring her here.
I eagerly informed the waitress that we had brought our own bottles, but she asked if we wanted water anyway. Lily said tap was fine. When our tattooed French waitress brought over the large pitcher of water, with two glasses for water and two wineglasses, the basket of bread and butter had to squeeze in to fit. Lily rapidly appeased her hunger by stuffing herself with bread, but I thought they were stale and left most of it for the one they were satisfying more.
I took off my beige jacket and Lily noticed my new t-shirt from Seattle. It is a black crab wearing a white iPod, on a bright blue background, and says “iPinch”. She giggled and said it was cute, then added that it was simultaneously a bit corny. I thanked her for the compliments.
Lily asked me if I went to the yum cha place she had recommended, but I told her that was in her dreams and she never did recommend such a place to me in real life. She took a moment to think about this, and then stated that it belonged with a bad memory anyway. I told her that I found a decent yum cha place on my own, but did not recall the name off the top of my head to share with her. However, I remember their logo having a purple dragon. Lily asked to confirm what she heard, “Purple dragon?” “Yeah, it was a cute logo,” I replied. It would be my place of choice to bring her for dim sum, should we ever go to Seattle again.
Back to talking about her trip to Costa Rice, Lily feels that she has really grown up. During her week of vacation, she did not get sick of Michelle even through the latter end of their time together. In the past, Lily would have been annoyed by Michelle’s whining, and either have the prior verbally blast at the latter, or the two of them effectively and temporarily not talking with each other.
When they went to Europe together, years earlier, Michelle wanted to buy a $200 souvenir rock, which came from the Berlin Wall itself after it fell. Lily thought it was a useless piece of rock, but Michelle wanted to own a piece of history. During their time in Costa Rica, Michelle confided to Lily that this was tossed aside somewhere in her bedroom, still unopened from its box.
Lily feels that she is maturing because of her greater abilities to accept the imperfections inherent in people. To better fit in with an oppressive society, Lily is becoming more adept at socializing and increasing her levels of gibber jabber tolerance. Whichever souvenir Michelle picked up at the Costa Rican gift shops, Lily would deploy her newfound skills and give her approval.
I fear she is just numbing her own personality and watering down her character to appear more gregarious. Such surgical removal of individuality may increase the frequency of social interactions, but she would have less of herself expressed, understood, and exchanged in the relationship. Is the bond fashioned in this way true to oneself and the partner? Is it worth it in the end?
Lily asserts that this is a small world indeed, for a story untold from the Facebook pictures is how the couple who accompanied her to Costa Rice knew softrice. The pair attended Pace University and asked Lily if she knew softrice. She wonders if I recognized them. I said to her, “If I did, would I have said nothing of the fact when we looked over the pictures?” Realizing my answer was no, Lily continued with her revelation. The couple was in an orientation, and I supposedly once said to everyone, “My name is softrice. You have to know me.” Lily grinned and proudly confirmed, “Yup. That sounds like the softrice I know. I am cool with him.”
Hearing the nature of my boast, I ascertain that was who I was, before my fall. They must have known me during my earlier days in college, and remained faceless in my millions of fans. To this day, I am still only discovering the extent of how far-reaching I had pushed the brand of my name back then. Lover would be proud, as I am sure Lily is too, in our own little ways.
The shocking evidence of Isabella Leong, 20 years old, giving birth to Richard Li’s son, has become a focal point of our conversations lately. Lily and I are both flabbergasted at how a woman, half a decade younger than us and only midway through college, must be feeling in becoming a full-fledged mother. We are still not ready for parenthood, while someone blissfully beat us to that turning point in life. Then again, I tell Lily, it is not like every day when you get a chance to give birth to the next generation of billionaires. How would you feel if you gave birth to a billionaire? Lily acknowledges both surreal possibilities realized by this younger woman, and utters, “Yeah, right.”
Our laugh of the day came from the cheesy moon cake bag I had used to bring our alcohol. The original plan was to use the brown paper bag from the winery, Chateau Ste Michelle, but it was too loose in holding our three bottles. My parents sought to soothe my predicament by transferring my alcohol to a smaller bag, but not before they neatly tied them in a red plastic bag too! If I was in the transportation business, I would strike it rich with an entrepreneurial family. However, in the department of creating ambiance and style, I have become Lily’s laughingstock for the night. The only response I could mutter was that the bag was originally hers, when she gave my parents a box of moon cakes!
We stashed our sorry excuse of a bag to carry wine under our table. Lily would slip a bottle out of it whenever we were ready to open a new one. The reason why we needed a BYOB restaurant was for our Muscat Canelli, by Chateau Ste Michelle, Vintage 2007, from Columbia Valley. I had personally carried this back from the winery at Woodinville, Washington, because this was not a distributed wine and could not be found anywhere else in the world. Chateau Ste Michelle kept the wine local for distinguished tasting only, but visitors may purchase a maximum of four bottles each for personal enjoyment. One sip into the wine while I was there, and I knew I had to buy a bottle back to share with Lily. She is my wine tasting partner in crime.
The waitress opened our bottle of wine and took the cork with her. This would normally not be a problem, but I started collecting corks. I would not be able to buy this same bottle back, so I kindly asked her to return it, which she promptly did. Lily hurriedly tried to drink it, but I stopped her. I wanted her to experience this wine wholesomely, as I did at the winery, so I told her to smell the wine first. She took a sniff, and the fruity aromas from her glass surprised her. It does wake you up with all its fresh scents. I immediately knew again that I found her a winner.
One taste into the Muscat Canelli and Lily was in wine ecstasy. I prefer sweeter dessert wines myself, but this beverage carried a balanced sweetness that I knew would surely sweep Lily off her feet. The wine sold itself to Lily on its pure goodness, and now she knew exactly why I had troubled myself to bring a bottle back for her. Lily liked it so much that she now bothered to scrutinize the bottle, memorizing its name in hopes of finding more at our local wine stores. Her lips would perpetually utter, “Nice”, as she sample some more sips.
My happiness moment of the night was when Lily had fallen equally in love with our Muscat Canelli as I have. Yet it is also because of her natural response that followed, which led me to a discomforting disappointment. She was not listening to me. The reason why this wine is special is not only that it is good, but more so that it literally is not sold anywhere else in the world. You would not be able to find it at your local wine store, and it is only available to her tonight because of me. This is why the wine, and us being able to drink it tonight, is special. It hurts to hear her wonder where she could buy more.
Onwards from the wine would be our food. Lily does feel disgustingly fat recently, but I told her to enforce her diet on other nights, when she is spending time with her losers, and not when she is with the indelible softrice. Lily debated whether we should have three appetizers for the night, so that she may try the escargots. I told her to not think about it and get them, since she was hungry, and the escargots would not be much regardless. However, she decided go with only two appetizers.
My dining companion knew my favorite is the calamari, so we gladly ordered the restaurant’s signature version of this dish. This is the Calamards Sautes Provencale, which is sautéed calamari with garlic, parsley olive oil breadcrumbs, and tomato mushroom. The white rings mixed in with cubicle chunks of your typical vegetable accompaniments to calamari, with a slice of lemon on the side. Lily asked if I wanted lemon, to which I replied that I did not mind. She squeezed the lemon over the dish and was ready to dig in. I actually thought that the dish would be fried calamari. I obviously overlooked the sautéed part in the menu description.
Since Lily was the one to order for the both of us, the waitress really had a disadvantage in deciding who gets what. It ultimately does not matter, as we are accustomed to sharing our dishes. The calamari went in front of Lily, and I tried my best to reach over and kept poking at her squid. However, the cramped space proved to be difficult to navigate, when every other thing we previously had was cluttering the table. I thought the calamari rings were quite bland, but Lily liked its garlicky sauce. Since she liked this dish more, I was glad our waitress applied her judgment smarter than I would have.
I asked Lily to take a picture of the calamari for me, since it would be easier on her side, but she quickly snaps the shot and is indifferent towards the quality of its outcome. I played it on the camera, and it came out ugly. I wish she could show a bit of professionalism when doing this. I retook the picture from my angle, while she was pigging out. This was the attitude from the girl who considered taking a photography course.
Lily wanted the Moules Rochelaises, the chef’s favorite rendition of his many mussel dishes. This interpretation came as steamed mussels with curry, diced apples, and light cream. The waitress placed this appetizer in front of me, to which Lily asked if I wanted to switch. I declined and plowed my way through the plentiful mussels. At first, I tried not to use my hands, but it was just easier to steady the shells with my hands as I progressed, while plucking the mussels out with my fork.
The mussels turned out to be tiny critters, contrary to statements from online reviews. They were less than an inch each. I would pop them in my mouth and easily make them disappear. The easy pleasing Lily thought they were fine, but I told her that she had to try the mussels on the coast of Oregon. Those are half the size of my fist each, enormous by comparison, and deliciously chewy in their texture.
Lily was glad I traveled so much, and came back after having tried so many different things to be able to tell her. She knows traveling means nothing to me. It is not a big deal compared to being with her, which makes my time infinitely more fun and enjoyable. I told her to come with me, because where I get to go is meaningless otherwise. She has and she will again, when we find the right opportunities.
The remaining stale bread was perfect for soaking up all the curry sauce from the dish of mussels. The yellow curry is not spicy at all, and carried a slight tune of sweetness. It is a very light curry. The stale bread became favorably mushy when dipped. Lily was soon following suit, and did the same with the leftover sauces from her calamari plate.
We cheered to and for ourselves, with newly poured full glasses of the adored Muscat Canelli. I asked Lily if she had been up to the Space Needle before. Her answer was yes. I let her know that that was where I decided to collect wine. When I was talking to my mother, while overlooking the sun setting on the Seattle skyline, I realized I had been wine tasting at Sonoma & Napa Valley and Woodinville. I visited the two largest wine countries in our country, and I had bought back a great bottle of wine to share with Lily. Yet I also realized that I had only bought back one bottle to only share with Lily. I should have considered my family and others, but failed to do so. If I had the habit of collecting wine, then I could simply bring out all the good stuff to whoever came along and had fate to drink with me. After this bottle of Muscat Canelli was finished, there would be no more for Lily and me to taste again. I was suddenly enlightened to the benefits in having a wine collection.
Lily says it is wonderful how I found myself a new hobby, and wishes for me to teach her. I bluntly tell her that there is no secretive art to wine tasting. I just drink whatever, and if I so happen to come across something good, then I will share with her. That is all to my pursuit in wine tasting.
I walked Lily through the four basic steps in wine tasting. I tilted my glass and said the first factor we would look for is clarity. Good wine is supposed to be clear, whereas some poor wine would leave unattractive streak marks on the glass. Lily questioned why she would see some people twirl the wineglass. I explained that this was to open the wine, and take us to consider the second factor, which is scent. We smell the wine to know what flavors to expect, and then the third and fourth factors are simply taste and finish. Lily and I drink another glassful, only wanting more.
I looked at my glass of wine and smiled. Lily knew what I was thinking. She thinks I am crazy to want to drink a $400 bottle of wine. I met her eyes and asked, “And who did I want to drink it with?” It may seem like a ridiculous amount of money to spend on one bottle of wine, but we only live once. We might as well try everything (good) while we are alive. I will buy a bottle Chateau d’Yquem to taste with her, when we will be partying in Las Vegas for my birthday, later on in the year.
To someone who understands softrice, the $400 is certainly not worthy to be considered expensive, because that is merely the goal for this year. Perhaps in ten years’ time, after we had gotten sophisticated with our tasting, I will be buying $4,000 bottles of only the best Sauternes on Earth to taste with her. Now Lily was beaming at me with an incredulous look. I am that handsome. She says, “35,” her age in ten years, and a thought flashed across the back of my head. I wonder if we would still be drinking buddies then.
Lily commented on how there were quite a few walk in parties tonight, whereas we made reservations. A party of one even ate by himself, sitting at the table behind me. I thought that was very brave of him to do so. It is not a crime, but Lily said I would never eat at a restaurant by myself.
At another table, I overheard the waitress explain to the newcomers that this was a BYOB restaurant, because they do not have a liquor license. However, she gave them a number to which they could call, and the nearby liquor store would deliver their alcohol here for their consumption during dinner. The service here is very hospitable, and adeptly accommodating towards unexposed locals.
There are many nautical decors inside La Sirene, on a background of yellow orange walls. They fail to evoke the feeling that I am on an actual boat, but they do remind me of my upcoming plans for a yacht. Whereas I was scanning the interiors of the restaurant, during the short wait before our entries came, Lily checks the score of the basketball tonight. She damned the Lakers for winning.
When her attention returned to me, Lily asked if I am leaving for Hartford this weekend. I told her that I was heading out on Monday morning, but I will be back to play with her for the weekend, if she was still interested in going to Boston. I was surprised when she told me of her new plans to visit the aquarium in Coney Island. She says I am invited, the first one too, to go with her and six kids.
It was very nice of her to cancel our plans, take the slot of time that was mine, and gave it to some dumb kids, without even bothering to inform me. It warms my heart on how other people in her life get the courtesy of having plans ahead of time, while I am always on hold and told on the spot. Is it because they are younger, the children deserve the decency of advance planning, whereas I would never qualify for equal treatment as a fellow human being? Did she not get the memo that I am an adult child? If Lily did not want to rush our Boston trip and was always intending to have that weekend freed up, then why are things with me, like checking out the midtown scuba diving school together, pushed back to the next or following month to do?
The sight of our entrees relieved my thoughts from further unpleasantness. However, the food was coming at a rapid pace, which was unsettling, as our first bottle of wine had not even been finished yet. I told Lily to try and slow down in eating our entrees, but instead she had a different strategy. She was pouring gigantic glassfuls of wine. I pained to see our bottle finished in such an unsavory fashion. We are not cherishing every sip to its maximum potential! Lily stared at me and asked, “Is it for me to drink?” I understood her meaning, reluctantly said yes, and allowed her to keep pouring and drinking as she felt like doing so.
I must have imagined every dish wrong, because I thought Lily’s signature entree would come on its bone, but her roasted lamb leg was conveniently sliced and neatly plated in a row, covered in a white wine crème de garlic confit sauce. The Steak de Gigot d’Agneau Poele Creme D’Ail was amazing. The meat was gamey and juicy, and much better than how mine turned out.
Lover proves she is right once again, when she said the Chinese makes the best duck. I ordered the Magret de Canard Poele Sauce Montmorency. This is another signature entree, which is seared duck breast with cherry, pot and red wine sauce. Lily and I tried a piece, and both of us agreed that it was too sweet. Lily tried a second piece and tasted the red wine sauce. Anything with a red wine sauce holds a favorable connotation in my mind, which I am sure is the same with Lily too, but I believe this dish is made the same everywhere, and holds no originality in terms of its making, taste, or presentation.
Both entrees we ordered came with the same side dish too, which is disappointing to see. It is an orange square of squash puree, and a stick of green condiment stuck in it. Lily asked me what it was for, and I simply plucked it out and tossed it aside. Get to the food that is edible, I figured. The waitress had also given us a rectangular tray of four vegetable purees, which simply bored us. I informed Lily that if she was interested, we have an unlimited supply of these sides. Lily flashed me a look that let me know she sure did not want more.
Based on the overflow of positive raves online, I had much higher expectations for the food. There was nothing wrong with our appetizers and entrees, but it was nothing outstanding either. I also did not understand how these dishes were strictly French, when every other Western ethnic cuisine prepares calamari, mussels, lamb, and duck in similar culinary methods. Our entrees were better than our appetizers, and it was thoroughly not a well-paced dinner. Though I can understand how such a small restaurant with only 25 seats must turn the tables to remain profitable, it does not mean I have to like it. Lily thinks I am a harsh critic, but likes reading our dinners on this blog nonetheless to relive her experience with good food. Why does she not read our dinners to relive our happy moments together? At least, why does that remain unspoken?
More than halfway through our entrees, Lily and I moved on to our second bottle. Lily likes white over red, and Chardonnay is preferred more so than Sauvignon Blanc, which led to my choosing of Chardonnay as my starting point in learning how to wine taste. Since we were going to dine at a French restaurant, I thought it was only fitting to seek out a wine from France. The best way to familiarize ourselves with Chardonnay was to return to its roots. For this particular reason, I selected a bottle of Le Chardonnay de Chardonnay, from Maison Louis Latour 2006. This is the original Chardonnay from the tiny village in Burgundy, which named the world’s most famous grape.
Sadly, a taste into the wine and I discovered why the world has moved on from this vineyard. It was so bad that I felt as if I was drinking alka seltzer. Lily stated that it was inevitable, since we came from perfection and started with something so sweet. Now she quizzed me on why we had started with a dessert wine. The reason is that if we drank that during the latter half of dinner, she would be intoxicated and unable to appreciate the bottle I had exclusively brought back for her. Secondly, I became agitated because I had asked Lily beforehand if it would be weird should we drink the dessert wine first, and she was the one that assured me it would not be!
Our forgetful waitress likes to open my bottles and steal my corks. She did not catch the hint that I collect corks when I asked her to return the first one. This being a bottle I can always repurchase, I did not intend on asking for the cork back. However, Lily did not want it to go to waste and asked. The waitress came to our table and pointed to the first cork, pleading that she had done so, until we enlightened her that there was two bottles and she only returned the first. Laughing at her mishap, she gleefully fulfilled our request.
Curious to know where Lily was having dinner with Yee Nie, presumably with other Baruchies too, I asked. Not to my surprise, yet certainly still a disappointing find, she told that it was a Mexican establishment on Houston. Cheap and convenient for everyone living in Chinatown, but I wish they would stop telling me to move on and upgrade themselves to finer dining. I was glad for Lily, since she had been craving for Costa Rican rice and beans. Mexican rice and beans is all the same for me, if not for her. I lit up and told Lily how lucky she is to date me, because we get to go to all these different restaurants and taste the culinary talents of various neighborhoods, like having the good food here.
Instead of taking my praise to the next level, Lily ignores the self-compliments and goes on to remark on how sweet Danny is. Do I care? I responded by coolly stating it is none of my business. She continues with stories on how flirty Ying is becoming, but she does not like his secretive nature. It is uncomfortable when you cannot read someone you want close to yourself. I reiterated my policy on jealous and that it is for losers, so her plan will not work. My focus is to ensure your time with me is enjoyable, and you would be pleased to return for more. All time spent with other people is not my concern. Deaf to my stance, Lily glows upon highlighting the positives of Jeoffrey, which is really just one thing, him being nice. Everyone is nice but me. I get it. I add, “And softrice?”
Lily might as well be having dinner by herself, because I am just a wall used to bounce her voice. I might be a handsomer wall, but a dead and inanimate wall nonetheless. Lily plowed forward with her mental checklist of bachelors and went on with Michael. He was suave and considerate, willing to spread his affections for her to everyone around her too. I push to get some acknowledgement of my own existence and persisted, “And softrice?” It is hard when you find out that you are only a figment of your own imagination, because Lily dreamily ticked off more goops to talk about from her list.
“They all just want to sleep with you,” I unveiled. “No,” Lily analyzed, “Well, maybe that is all the Facebook dude wants, but the rest are really good to me.” What a coincidence none of them were this available in your life and good to you, when you were going crazy, and before you became single, I concluded to myself.
Good thing I know how to talk to the Lily I want to talk with. If she was going to use me as a wall anyway, I might as well replay the memories of Lily that I want to hear. From her personal perspective, here were all the negatives on these dogs. Danny may be comfortable and cool to chill with, but he is also too easygoing, which means a lack of ambition and has absolutely no plans for the future. Ying has a cool exterior, but it is only a shell covering a directionless life. Jeoffrey may relate to Lily as a fellow Taiwanese, but she believes men of her ethnicity to be chauvinistic pigs, which is great for me, because I am Cantonese. Michael is overwhelmingly aggressive, and the others are creepy Internet stalkers. It is fantastic how their negative energies channel positive supplements to my dinner.
Lover never liked the fact that I am a master manipulator. I see myself as a pragmatist, able and willing to invent and apply alternative solutions to the problems of life. Other than reviewing the identified weaknesses of Lily’s clods, my brain went on automatic mode and created these said alternative solutions to obliterate the obstacles placed before me.
Danny may as well lack the ability to plan for the future altogether. With a military history of cleaning blown brains of fellow combatants and now currently living a rather boring lifestyle, he is physically disciplined, but mentally weak. Psychological attacks would prove most effective. Mental implantations to arouse warfare nostalgia, on a prolonged basis, should nurture paranoia strong enough to detach him from the reality of metropolis life versus past battlefield demands.
Ying is European by upbringing, but noticeably Chinese by cultural dominance. Insecure without achievements to label his own, self-confidence is questionable. Aggravation to reap success prematurely may be his downfall. Magnification of successful personalities surrounding his social circles, while deliberating his personal setbacks, would serve to shrink his sense of self-worth to a new low level of nothingness.
Opposites attract, similar repels. How well do you think Lily will take to a Taiwanese male telling her what is Taiwanese female behavior? Whereas cultural similarities may bring two people together, the associated gender divide can separate. Trump up this gap. Taking Lily’s strengths as a successful businesswoman on a catwalk and disgracing Jeoffrey’s worthless sense of self will be fun.
Michael is a manipulator of the hearts. To oppose him would be tantamount to opposing those supporters he has gained, which is unfavorable given these would be the same guest stars in Lily’s life. His appearances are gentle, but he has a past that is neither reversible nor erasable. His earlier impressions of violence and misunderstanding are very much alive in everyone. Save your ammunition and concentrate on your game. Let him come to you and lose his supporters to your cause. He is one surely to implode.
The others on the list are inconsequential. They are either ethnically unattractive or too far removed from a real interaction. Use them as target practices or crucify as sacrifices. All of which are pleasurable entertainment, I am sure, but I really should not play with my food.
Reality knocks and Lily is still adamantly going about her list. I tell her to stop. My strategic position is simple and straightforward. I do not recognize their existence. If they do not exist, then there is no one to talk about, hence this conversation is over.
Lily claims this is what friends do. I am angry now. The first statement I make is, “I am not a friend.” I never was a friend. We firmly established that I am not a friend last time. Why was she regressing on me now? I did not understand and do not care to. I worked hard to make progress, and I will not have it taken away. There has to be trust in our foundation in order to build. If she can take back her words, and say we are friends whenever she wants, then what would we have as our base?
Lily gets into a fit and attacks that I am bothersome. I calmly agreed that I am bothersome, but she likes me being bothersome in her life, otherwise she may rid me at any time of her wishing. Lily states that she just might. I shrug and have another glass of wine, telling her to feel free and do so. We go back and forth, with her saying that I am her friend, and I affirmatively telling her that I am not. She asks, “If you are not a friend, then what are you?” I do not care, so long as I am not a friend, I will be satisfied. Whatever you wish to think of me as, that is your business. Lily continues to use friend, and I repeat myself until she realizes “No” means “No”.
I was surprised when Lily says that she cannot give me what I want. It is a surprise considering that I do not know what I want myself. It would be truly wonderful if I found another person who knows what I want, when I personally do not. I severely doubt this is so. The words never come from me, but it does from her. She reasons that I can only be a friend or a boyfriend. It really is not a choice. I would not get to decide. I never did. The situation is always the same. I do not need to answer her. I only need to look at her, and she knows. Bring me up to this point, and my decision is only one. I will live my life according to my own beliefs. I tell her, “I am not a friend.”
What began as a playful tease had gone too far, and out of our control as it continued forth. Lily claims there is no longer a need for us to see each other, since we are not friends. She wants to force me into submission, but fails to account how strongly I feel in regards to the subject. I choose death over friendship. If it does not matter to you, and there is no difference should you have me in your life or not, then it is fine with me to not see each other. Lack of self-confidence and self-worth are never part of my department. I believe I add a meaning to your life, but if you think otherwise, then it is fine.
Lily wondered if it would be possible for us to have dinner like this again, when we would no longer be talking to each other. I smiled and said, “Well, if you stalk me at my home, and we so happen to walk into the same restaurant and sat at the same table, then we would be having dinners together.” Still confident of her place in my heart, she increased the pressure of her tease, “Are you sure now? You will not be able to email me.” I do email her a lot, it will be a great loss to me, but it is not a reason to give up everything I believe in! I said, “Sure.”
Lily scolded, “Do not email me tomorrow!” To which I told her not to even pretend she would reply to my emails tomorrow, as she would typically ignore me for the whole day when tailing deliveries. Both of us were smiling at how well we knew the natures of one another. She now revised her threat and loudly spoke of it aloud, “Fine! No more emails from now on. You said it.” “I said it,” I confirmed.
Unable to accept defeat, Lily picks up her iPhone and points it at me. She asks me again, “Are you sure now? I will delete your number. We will not talk.” An amused smile remains on my face, and I tell her, “I am sure I am not a friend.” Without a loss of confidence in her voice that she will win this, she asks a third time, “You are sure?” “Yes, I am,” I concluded. Lily goes through her phone and presses some buttons, which I presume is having my number deleted from her contact list, and we are done.
We will no longer see each other going forward. Lily and I are not talking to one another. I am no longer welcomed to email her. She has no number to call me (unless she revives it from her oh so many sources to obtain my number). I asked if sending her pictures would count as contact, and Lily said it would, I should not send my pictures to her. What about her gifts, I wondered aloud. She does not want them, since we are strangers. Should I mail them to her? Lily offered that I could drop it off at her store, since it would be a waste of postage, I could mail them as proposed, or I could forget about them, again reiterating that we do not know each other. I counterattacked and tempted her not to read my blog(s), to which she guaranteed, “I will not!”
We continued to drink the remainder of the Chardonnay, and Lily suddenly asks, “So what about this new girl? Is she cute? How do you know her?” I finished my glass, poured myself another, and clarified, “I only call her the new girl because that reference makes you jealous.” “I am not jealous. I simply get confused as to whether you are talking yours or my new girl at the store. Do not worry about me getting jealous,” she defended. I worry about you not getting jealous, you fool!
“The girl working at your store is not new anymore, so I would not call her that,” I explained. “Your new girl,” Lily continued with her interrogation, “What was her name again? Yuri? Was it Yuki?” “Yun,” I replied. “I know her from Chinese School, but we were never in the same grade. You know I do not think that many girls are cute,” satisfying her other curiosities. Lily interpreted my remarks to her standards and said, “Oh, so she is cute.” I forget that she had not seen Yun before, hence the “New” part of the reference, so I offered to take a picture with the girl and show her next time.
Before Lily could go on with her misguided thoughts, I revealed that Yun has a boyfriend already. Lily damns me and states that I like seeing girls with boyfriends. She accuses me of being the ruin of relationships. I acquitted myself of her charges, and said it was not intentional. If it were, then I would have ruined the one relationship I should be ruining. I offered that seeing girls with boyfriends makes it safe for me. I said that lie as good as any compulsive liar would, since the both of us knew when I wanted a girl, I could not care any less if there is a boyfriend or not.
Lily pleads I should see girls that are available. I grinned and said I am doing exactly that now. Lily added Prima, and I added Victoria, from time to time. I am sure there are others, but I have no interest in going down my list. Midway through our fun, Lily abruptly rescinded her availability, stating that she is seeing Danny. You rejected him already! You lectured me on how you enjoy being single! Why the Hell cannot the decision stay?!?
Lily boringly repeats that Danny is nice and affectionate, rehashes the obvious on how he wants to be more than friends are, and then provocatively shocks me with her new intentions of possibly giving him a chance next month. I fail to see the difference made between this month and the next, but I casually reminded her that this is none of my business, “I do not care.” I must be blind to something crucial here, because Lily came at me with an absolute need for me to listen to this garbage. I remain removed from her gibberish until she insisted that this was the business of friends. I do not know how to make myself any clearer. I choose death over becoming something as meaningless and dispensable as friendship.
The question Lily asks me next lingers in my head, “Are you really going to be stubborn and give up something so special?” After all these years, having come so close to my heart, and all I am is still only stubborn. She argues that I should be satisfied with what we have, because it is special. She recounts her efforts to see me once a month. She testifies that what we share is irreplaceable. For all her insights on how much we do mean to one another, Lily is only able to look back towards the past, and not see into our future. My answer remains unchanged, “Yes.”
Lily is moving to dissolve our Rule No.29. Everything we built will fall apart. She will have a new boyfriend, and the stupid societal walls will close in on us again. We will no longer be able to see and play with one another as freely. We will not go to Las Vegas, again! We will not be able to go to Europe. We will not be able to runaway for a weekend in Chicago. We will no longer be able to continue conquering aquariums or have our fancy dinner at L2O. We will no longer be able to do our new hobby, scuba diving, together. I will lose everything again.
Lily knows my history. She knows exactly why I will not be a friend. Lily says that she only recently found out, but nonetheless she knows now. Yet it does not stop her from forcing me into this decision. If you make me decide between friend and boyfriend, I will decide boyfriend. I will never be a friend again. I am not just targeting her. This goes for everyone.
I made a mistake with Lili. I did not step up to take the role as her boyfriend, and I loss someone special to me. I care so much more for Lily. I do not care to make the same mistake.
I share my feelings. If Lily and I did date, it would be the most awkward feeling in the world. We have differences, whereas both of us have our hearts broken, she is pursuing someone who will love her more than she does him, and I am only afraid there will not be another person that can break my heart harder and deeper. Our lifestyles are incompatible too, wherein Lily would drive me crazy when she forgets to call when she said she would, or such as how she is forever satisfied with her current situation and I am anxiously delivering the future into our present day world.
I can rationalize all of this, but who is to say these are irreconcilable after we are together? Maybe Lily will call when she says. Maybe everything that does not work now will work when harmonize. Why close the door, be a friend, and trap myself in a box? There is no reason not to be a boyfriend. I do not reject the idea. (Oh yeah, this is surely going down in history as one of my top ten most romantic propositions ever. I do not reject the idea, ack!)
As for why I ask for more, why should I not ask for more? Is it not the same with everyone else in your life? Are they asking for more, wanting to be more, or are they satisfied? If they were content with life, you should have told them to be satisfied before they knew you or before they started seeing you. They should be satisfied with how little next to none they were previously in your life. They should have been satisfied never having been your friend. They should be satisfied always only being in a box called friendship. Why only come to suppress me? I am not a goldfish, content to swim back and forth in a bowl. Why do you not go to your others and ask them why they are not satisfied?
Birds have wings because they are to fly. You catch one and put him in a cage, and you will find out that it does not matter how much you care for him, it does not matter how well you shelter him, and it does not matter how well you feed him. The whole concept violates the evolutionary laws that gave the bird a pair of wings to fly in the first place. You strip him of his existentialism. When you never flew, you will never be able to understand his experience of freedom. Friendship is this cage for me. Do not trap me in a cage. Do not treat my feelings like an animal for you to cage, provide, and dictate. Allow me the freedom to nurse whatever feelings I feel and entertain whatsoever thoughts I think. I am human. Respect me so. Give me my freedom. Do not kill my existentialism.
Another retraction was Lily’s statement on seeing me once a month. It was agreed to be once a week! Regardless, I fail to see how her calculations gave her such a thought. When has she seen me once a month? Was it this month? Was it last month? I can go back and trace our softrice posts, and there are not even twelve dinners in a year, so how is that seeing me at least once a month? If it is by effort, then what is said when you fail to see me once a month, and then effortlessly able to see someone else more than weekly? When you do see me, it is when you are tired, sleepy, or recovering, as opposed to when you are energetically partying with strangers. If your investment of time and energy is supposed to move me, then I would like to say there has been an inadequate push.
The owner of La Sirene, chef for the night, gregariously visits our table and asks us how we were doing. He wondered if the food was up to our expectations. I said everything was fine, and so did Lily. His persistence to please continued, and questioned if there was anything more he could do to make our experience enjoyable. I opened my mouth, as if wanting to speak, but had nothing to say. Lily spoke my thought and told that he could do no more, and off to the kitchen he returned.
For dessert, I wanted the Big Profiteroles au “Bittersweet” Chocolat. Lily had the sweets set for the Sabayon Chaud aux fruits du moment, which the menu describes as the hot French way of “Zabaglione” with the fruits of the moment, a very refined dessert. Our kind waitress, opposed to making a profit off the unsuspecting, warned us against ordering two desserts, as even one of theirs is enough to fill two to four people. Under such circumstances, I accommodated Lily’s request and forfeited my own. We thought the waitress had understood our final decision, yet it was my selection when our one dessert came out. It was three scoops of vanilla ice cream, individually wrapped within a pastry puff skin, and ultimately coated with bitter dark chocolate and topped with whip cream. Not only was the dessert not good, but the divergence between Lily and I intensified.
Disappointed from not getting her dessert, Lily argues that I always need to have my way. It is the same with our dessert, our wine, and the restaurant. They were all my decisions, claimed Lily. It was an ungrateful statement to make, but I did not take it as how she truly felt. Lily was never good at formulating sensible points to support an argument, so this was her desperate attempt to twist anything in her favor. I would have recommended against it, since it does nothing to advance her cause, and only does harm to her character.
We could have sent back the dessert, but she did not choose to do so. The wine was a perfect gift to share with someone you love, since there is none better that we know from our limited tasting of wine. As for the restaurant, it best fitted our needs for the night, and she could have voiced her opposition at any time during our selection process. I only wish I did not have to make all the decisions! I willingly and happily planned and prepared everything for our tonight together, and the thanks I get are a charge that I am dominating.
Lily asks me if it is worth it, to lose something so special between us, because I am stubborn. It was disappointing to hear her judgment, because I foolhardily thought I was more to her. I did not know I had no right to pursue my own emotions. This was not about everything I lived to stand for, but only happening because I am stubborn. I tell her that I am not, and she is. If she were not, then we would not be without room to wiggle. Lily must have thought so too, for she had meekly smiled. Regardless, if you know me to be stubborn, why would you harbor expectations for me to be otherwise? When will you realize how incredibly dense I am and stop believing I will take a less stubborn path then? My rebellion may be futile, but I will make my resistance known!
I am not a friend. I need Lily to get that in her head. If the concession I got last time is not enough to stick, then you just know this time I will try again with more power and force. Should a stranger come and pursue Lily, she would be ever proud and receptive. The wooer has so much desired potential and freedom. Yet I am caged, discouraged and restricted from crossing over. I am always in my box, static. What is the point of a relationship that is never going anywhere? All this, while I have to watch Lily grow closer with every other person, chilling more, talking more, and being more than this friend taken for granted. If you take me for a dinosaur, willing to sit idly by and wait for extinction to come, you would be wrong. No. I shall act to stop the accursed cycle.
Lily wonders if I wanted to be anything else, besides friend, boyfriend, and family. Knowing this to be an insincere path, I amuse her and ask what else is there. Lily gathered her thoughts for a moment and answered that there is nothing else, as I knew. Out of the three offered choices, I voiced that I would have actually preferred to choose family. She replied that I could be family then.
If family were an actual choice, we would not have had the problems we had in the past. To be family is not just cheap talk between us, here and now. It is how we see and feel for each other. It will be our relation before the outside world. Will you introduce me to your friends as family? If you would drive your mom or brother to the airport, will you do the same for me too? Will you have your social circles take me as family, and do with me as you would do with family? This is family. It will not just be us titling each other here, to satisfy the moment. We both know she is only calling me family here, and then will continue seeing me as a friend once we step out of La Sirene and return to our worlds. A friend is a friend, and I have to get rid of its association to me, completely and permanently.
Though the world unreasonably sees me as a problem maker, I see myself as a problem solver. Just because I am a dreamer and idealist, it never meant that I am not a pragmatist. Of friendship, boyfriend, and family, there never was a choice for me to choose. Force me to a position where I am to decide between friendship and boyfriend, and I will always choose boyfriend. If Lily insists that I be a friend or nothing, then my choice will always again be nothing. Life is so simple.
Lily continues her journey into the unbelievable, as she speaks as if she did not know to whom she is talking with. Her argument is that she is positive, because she says she wants to be my friend, while I am negative, when I say I do not want to be her friend. First, I correct her. My repeated statement was that I am not her friend. I never said that I did not want to be her friend. To me, there is a world of difference between the two. Secondly, I told Lily that I am not negative, but she is adamant in believing otherwise. Lastly, I really cannot believe she is talking to me in such a manner. It is as if I was not who I am, and as if my original rise in reputation had nothing to do with my abilities to hold my own in debates. I can easily turn her childish points made to blow up in her face. There is probably one thing I did not want to be in her life, while I can just as easily point at how many more things she did not want to be in mine. If being positive or negative really mattered so much, I can charge her with enough negatives to become an electron.
The futility of the whole situation progresses to points where it never needed to be. Lily begins to strengthen her statements and says that I will be her friend no matter what I like to believe. That is a bad place to go, since it will legitimatize me to deploy the same tactic, and I can do it better. I coldly told her, if she would like to be stubborn and call me a friend, I can do nothing to stop her, but I will not acknowledge the relationship. It would be funny to see how one can force a friendship upon me.
I was anxiously waiting at the edge of my seat, excited and hopeful for the highly awaited defense on behalf of friendship! Yet Lily only manages to deliver a dud, rehashing that a friend is a friend, with feelings going only in a certain way, and she could not think of me in any different way. This hurts in the sense that it conveniently ignores both our histories, as if we did not know a thing about one another and had not paid attention in all our previous communications, for our experiences themselves prove contrary to her false claim. The irrelevance of her statements shocks me.
Moreover, her feelings for every other dude must be different from those for me too. From strangers to friends, anyone can come at her with advances, no matter how aggressive, forceful, or uncomfortable, and she would continue to see them for dinners or chat over the phone. However, for me, Lily can offer nothing more, whereas I am singled out to be disallowed to continue to email her, mail her, see her, and other neat things like that. The unfairness in my treatment does not escape me, and as always, I do not know why this is.
Perhaps I would assign more weight to the points Lily had to make, if she had not totaled her credibility but a few moments ago. If your moods can swing from wanting to enjoy singlehood to the consideration of giving one a chance now, how is it that I can take what you say seriously? If your rejection from a month ago is present acceptance, what is the deterrent for me to stop my pursuit? If your assurances to me yesterday no longer hold true today, where should I put my confidence in you for our days tomorrow and thereafter? Your decisions and actions only embolden me to step forward and secure my interests.
Where is the attraction in being a friend anyway? Like a good New Yorker, I will line up wherever I see a long line. If there is such a line and it is long, filled with interested applicants wanting to be a friend to listen to all this crap about your boys, then Lily should give them the position she currently wants me to fill. They will surely be better qualified to provide such useless services. I would like to reserve myself to be a premium provider of specialized services, thank you very much.
Who wants to be just a friend nowadays? There is a noticeably longer line to become a boyfriend, so why should I not line up for this position instead? I am certain that none of her dogs wants to remain a friend, given the chance, and it was never their original intent either. Would so many friends be interested in Lily if she was not single? Would Lily be so much fun if said friends had prettier girlfriends? Lily knows this as well as I do, but simply accepts it as the game played by everyone.
Lily reasons that she just wants some loving, where is the wrong in that. Where is it wrong for me to want the same then? If you have no expectations of me, then why do you expect me to stay content? Why would I want to be the invisible one, when you would take pictures with others to preserver those memories but not with me for ours? Why would you sacrifice our time together continuously, when you invest all your energies to dress up and party with others, and I am tending to you, exhausted and in rags? What is wrong with me, when I want to be the focus of your attention, instead of having you neglect me? What is wrong with me, when I want to you to remember what you read and heard from me, instead of listening to how much higher you regard the words, thoughts, and actions of people that do not even exist in my life? What is wrong with me, when I want you to care for who I am and what I am to you? What is wrong in me for wanting you to respect me as a fellow human being, intact with feelings and a free will?
What is a friend? What does friendship mean to you? Lily puts forward an irrelevant point, and suggests that maybe our definition of friendship is different. Our definition of friendship is different! The majority of the people she takes in under her definition, I view as trash. Lily reacted as if this brought us somewhere, but I fail to see where she was going. Am I supposed to want to be a friend now, because the majority of her definition is composed of trash? Having understood this was not where she had wanted the argument to come, Lily hastily retreated from these grounds.
What is our future? I am a futurist. You are talking to a futurist. Have some decency and show me a future I want us to have. The only statement made tonight, on what a friend is, is for me to be listening to talks about how nice so and so is. Once a month, only when you are not busy with a loser of yours, you will come bless me with your presence and bestow upon me the gift of hearing you talk on how your time, energy, and attention is spent on others. I alone have this fortune to listen because we are close, while you play with those that are not. I want to be friends, because this is how I want to spend the rest of our lives. With such a bleak future, is anyone else surprised that I do not want to be a friend?
I doubt Lily herself knows which is the part where I am supposed to want to be a friend. What is your argument for friendship? What of this friendship proposed is definitive to my character and essential to my life? Which is the part that shows how special of a friend you are for me? What do I get from your friendship that I cannot get from being friends with all others? If you have none of these answers, am I another one of your selfish desires, simply to be what you want because you so wish? I ask because there has been no work performed to be my friend. I am only supposed to be.
If Lily would stop being her selfish self for one minute, she would see why I have no choice. If she considered me for once, Lily would know why I have to do what I am doing. Think of the overtones this whole situation is evoking. Since my fall, there had already been so little of my former self in continued existence. To arrive at my decision tonight, I had to compromise more. Any decision otherwise is to lose all of me. The only comfort I tell myself is that Lily is worth it, because she is someone I love.
I have always wondered how Lily would response, if she would be any different from predecessors, but everyone is the same. No one is special. I know my decision is opening its own can of worms. I know all my future complications will arise because of this tonight. Even knowing all of this as a futurist does not mean I do not know I will not have a chance to face my problems of tomorrow, if I cannot make my mistakes today and get pass the present.
Lily crossed the Rubicon and she knew it. This is not the first time Lily cornered me with an ultimatum, but it is a precedent on how immediate I made my decision and how definitive my stance is. The same parlor tricks used too often on me quickly loses its effectiveness, and to have done so on a strong belief of mine was unfortunate.
Lily tries one last time, but I will not avoid the end of our fate. She explains that there is no intention to sound cocky, but it comes out as is nonetheless. Lily asks, “It is extremely hard to find someone you feel so comfortable with. Are you sure, you want to give up on us, because you are stubborn?”
I feel proud to know how highly Lily thinks of herself in my heart, but this is not me being stubborn. This is about my survival, our evolution. There is no value in the preservation of our relationship. I need to protect the meaningfulness in once having and forever retaining each other in our lives. I live and die by my belief, where if it makes no difference to have softrice in your life or not, then you do not need me. I will take my leave at this point.
I tell Lily that I am an indecisive person, but once I have decided, my decision will not change. She did not hear me on my first announcement, as the restaurant had gotten louder. I repeat myself, to which she heard and responded with a query, “Does that not make you a decisive person then?” I said no, because I am indecisive.
To my departure, Lily yells, “Fine! I will use our day to spend with someone else! Everybody wants to hang with me, and I did not have enough days to pass around anyway!” If my companionship is not desirable or the highest honor I can bestow upon you, then I have failed. Time spent with me should not be a repeatable high from accompanying another person. I told Lily, if she could better spend her time with other people or groups of partygoers, leave me, and please feel more than free to do so. I raised my wineglass, leading her to follow. I clunk glasses with her, and gave Lily a cheers to a happier life without softrice in it.
If Lily carefully studied what she and her previous relationships meant to me, she would know how irreplaceable she is in my heart. In her world, however, everyone is replaceable. Lily assures me that I will be hard to replace, but she is confident that she will manage.
I never made an impression on people when I was young. Far too few people even knew I existed back then. Throughout the past decade, I labored to create a taste to myself that you can experience from no one else. I thought I had gotten wiser and sexier. I do not want to be replaceable. If I am, then I might as well be dead for lack of existential value. I do not want Lily to be successful in replacing me.
In what might be my last confession to her, I succinctly let Lily know how much she will always mean to me. I love her. She is family. Lily knows all of this, which is why she knows exactly what she is doing to me. Lily knows better than anyone what happens when I drop someone out of my life. It is not as easy as it sounds, or as fun as I make it look. I will miss her every moment I am away from her. Every second apart, it will kill me. I am unplugging my last tie to sanity, but it will all be worth it should Lily discover what softrice truly means to her, when I am no longer here in her life.
Lily and I may have overestimated how much we meant to each other, but both of us hold hopes that we are running on an underestimation. The only way to win this game is to have the other person care more to have you return to his or her life. Under different circumstances, I may even want to lose. However, death is a better fate than to be friends.
Lily jokes that our next dinner together will be on the loser. This would be a great tension reliever if Angel had not once said the same. Now it is simply a bad omen. In a tone beyond doubt, I told Lily to start saving money, because I will hurt her wallet badly when she calls me out on a date. I will find the most expensive restaurant to memorialize this coming occasion. Lily grins with equal confidence and says, “Ha! Do not worry. It will not be me that will be paying!” I smiled, raised my glass, and cheers with her again. The doors are open for either one of us to return first, but it will be our strong headedness that will indefinitely keep us two apart.
We draw our confidence from our relationship histories. Lily’s arrogance comes from knowing she got pass Kevin in a matter of months. He may have been closer to her, but there was never a moment I believed myself to be his lesser. I am pride more than anything is, and softrice is his greater. By logic, Lily may be right. Yet reality and I do not follow the laws of logic.
I admire her cocked sureness too, for Lily to rest assured of her spot in my heart. I do not know how she arrived at her conclusion though. If I made the same decision with Angel and lover, what gives her the confidence to think I will decide any differently with her? Lily responds that it is because she did not break my heart. I reply, “Neither did lover.” Regardless, Lily insists her case to be different. It seems I will not get a better answer, so I let it go and move on.
One note worthy of celebration is this is how a peaceful breakup should be. At least I have gotten one thing right in my life. Except if I knew this would be our last dinner together, I would have chosen a more spacious and refined restaurant, and of course, accompanied by a finer wine that did not have such a bitter aftertaste. Our first bottle of Muscat Canelli would have been perfect! This reminds me, once again, of the imperative need to hoard extra bottles on every opportunity I come across a collectible wine.
Lily becomes bored with our trifling conversation and checks out the game on her iPhone. Orlando was leading again, which got her hyped up. She excitedly told me the score, as if I cared. These were last moments together! I wish she would pay greater attention to me than to a stupid basketball game. I wonder if she knows how unappreciated I feel in her life.
Lily righteously says she tries to see me once a month, but is she conscious that for the last three months, there was not one time we were simply happy to meet up, because she had screwed me over on every occasion to accommodate the barbarous needs of others? Did she remember another three months before then, when we were in a silent war, because she had sacrificed my happiness to indulge in her own gratification by partying with those that have hurt me deepest? Is it already forgotten, when she shunned me to a dark corner in her life, more than half a year ago, to please a buffoon that would leave her not long after?
What am I to her? Am I a toy, to be taken out to play with whenever she is bored, and then boxed and tossed aside should there be more exciting things to do or more interesting people to see in life? What is softrice worth to you? Would you invest your time, instead of learning from me, to teach me what you are good at that I am not? Is friendship no longer righteous, noble, and loyal? Are thoughtfulness and consideration no longer qualities to invest into a relationship? Am I not privy to fortune?
Why must I choose between friend, boyfriend, and family? As I write this, I revise my future answer. The three are not mutually exclusive. (Well, unless you start out as family, then you really cannot be boyfriend or girlfriend. Luckily, this is not the case with me. I can be all three.) I choose all three. I will be all three. It is as if someone asks if you wish to take a role in her past, present, or future. I am the three acts in one.
We ask for the check to end our night. La Sirene is a cash only restaurant. I made no mention of it to Lily, because I wanted to treat her to dinner, since she had already loss so much money and suffered negative stress vibes from the week before. I had brought over twice the amount needed to cover our expenses, which verified Lily’s earlier assertion that the menu looked inexpensive. Lily wanted to pay tips, so I agreed and let her put down what was double the tax.
I wanted to use the restroom before we left, so I stepped up to kitchen to ask where it was. The owner pointed to the right corner and joked that it was his only door inside the small restaurant. It was the size of a telephone booth, but clean. The faucet to wash your hands was outside too. There was only a toilet bowl inside. Once I returned to our table, Lily took her turn to use the restroom. She comes back afterward to tell me they had a small kitchen. I noticed too.
In the future, I would want at least one small restaurant to call my own, but it would still have to be bigger than La Sirene. Lily also shares this dream, except she would want a vegetarian one. I still like the idea of naming it Compassion, after my Goddess of Mercy. Contrary to economical sensibility, I would like a controlled and relaxed flow of patrons, amplifying the romantic ambiance of my establishment. I rather make less money, but remain profitable, without having to deal with the rumpus. I want an achievement where lover can enjoy her time and be proud of me for.
Lily smelled air in the room, which carried about it the fresh scents of garlic and bread. The food cooking in the kitchen was stirring her appetite. I told her to enjoy the scent, for it would be the last smell we share together. I got up in front of the kitchen, to pick up some business cards before the cash register. The waitress said I could keep the entire stack in my hand, but I took three and kindly returned the rest. I told her that I had no usages for so many. I handed one over to Lily, and neatly tucked two in my wallet.
Along with our receipt came two lollipops. There is a bit of irony if you knew whom I affectionately called Lollipop. I learned my lesson well and remembered not to repeat it tonight. Our pair of lollipops came one blue and one purple. If you read too much into the details, like I do, you would find it fitting as I did. I told Lily to take the blue one, while I took the purple lollipop. At first, Lily declined, saying she did not want it. I was happy to see, in the end, Lily intentionally sweeping it into her bag, as we got up to leave. I wonder if it has the same meaning to her as it did to me.
Food: B-
Drinks: N/A
Dessert: D
Ambiance: C
Final: C
Upon leaving La Sirene, Lily wanted to take a taxi home. I told her not to waste such money and forced her to walk back with me. It was desirable to prolong my last moments with her anyway, except when she refused to take a picture with me, and yelled on the street that I am a stranger. I did not like how Lily did not keep to her word, even when this was an argumentative point she knew I had with someone else before this. I warned her, a few times, that this was our last chance to immortalize our memories together. Lily did not care. She does not take the opportunity to cherish our last moment together. My angry playmate only burped into my ears, repeatedly, and confirmed that we do not know each other.
Realizing this may be the last opportunity to make her own confession, Lily emphasized that Michelle and I were the ones she held closest to her heart. I smiled and told her not to bring Michelle into this. I never did like Lily using her relationship with Michelle to cap us. My relationship with you is between you and me. I strictly prohibit all third parties from interfering with the business of us. Either you give me more and appreciate having me in your life, or this is it.
The fired up Lily busily called Michelle. I really did not want to bother Michelle with our business, but Lily controlled her own phone and friends. Once Michelle picked up, Lily loudly made her become our witness for the night. Lily yelled, “Listen, after tonight, softrice and I are no longer friends!” Maybe it will stick this time, I thought to myself. Upon hearing the harsh statement and her irregular tone, Michelle asked if Lily was drunk. Lily admitted to having a few drinks, but the both of us agreed that this would not be the excuse to ignore all the progress made tonight. Hence the functionality Michelle would serve, should the need arise.
Another difference between Lily and I are our social inclinations. Whereas I will cocoon myself in a state of semi-isolation, Lily will indiscriminately expand her circles in hopes of compensating for her past and present losses. I concentrate on taking care of her on our walk back, but Lily defiantly calls up all her tools, one after another. I noted all of them asking if she was drunk, or Lily would first explain that she had a few drinks.
The first candidate was Michael. They gently talked and mulled over future dates. I was completely uninterested in their conversation, until she had finished with him, and started charging into the streets without regards for the lights. At Grand and Bowery, when it was nowhere near red lights for her to start crossing over, a taxi coming from a block away was urgently beeping at her. I reactively grabbed and pulled her back on the sidewalk. Lily fidgeted for this stranger to stop touching her, while shouting that she is not drunk and the cars will not hit her. I hope she wakes up remembering the taxi beeping at her! I really do not understand why others get gestures of appreciation when she is drunk, and I have to contend with this.
Next on the list to call was Geoffrey. She speaks Mandarin instead of Cantonese this time, so I can differentiate the identities of these unsuspecting idiots. I do not interrupt her conversations, as she apparently wishes to spend our last moments together by talking to others and not me. Yet coming upon a car turning into our street, Lily stays motionless, while I reached the next block. She does not move for cars that are waiting for her to cross!
After ending her conversation with Geoffrey, Lily turns to me and points the phone to my face. She declares having one more person to call. I know who it is. Her threat does not wipe the arrogant smile from my face, but we both know I will not like it. Maybe it is out of consideration for me that Lily ultimately decides to put away her phone, instead of continuing with her game.
We were at the end of our fate, for Lily and I had arrived at the doorsteps of her home. She asked if I wanted to go in and use her restroom, knowing that I needed to pee. I declined, thinking I could make it back home. I gave her our third bottle, a French Ale I had especially gotten for her to try from the Bowery Beer Room at Whole Foods. It was a St Rieul, grand cru, biere triple sur lie. I was hoping this would be a superior find, in replacement of the Pilsen Beer from Costa Rica that I was unable to get for her. We did not say a proper goodbye. Lily rushed in to watch her basketball game, and I turned away to start my walk home alone. I do not know if I can take such a Shakespearean ending to our relationship. There was no hug, again. There was no kiss. No one is sentimental these days. I have to end my next relationship in a better way.
I have no doubts I made the right decision, but my sense of security shows cracks. We surely still do care about each other, but I wonder how much space do I occupy in her heart? Will she be hurt in the loss of a friend? Will her life be any different without me, or shall life continue as normal after today? Am I worth a moment of reflection, for her to think and write about tonight in her private blog, or is the final score of the basketball game more momentous? With so many thoughts striking inside my head and without Lily preserving my sanity, I worry how long it will be before the psycho emotional bomb within me explodes.
As I step onto East Broadway, I call Prima. She was apparently on her way back home too, on a bus, getting off this late from work. We chat about nothings for a bit, and then I told her what happened. Prima instinctively asked why I had not call lover with this information instead, for she would surely know how to care for me better. “Lover will (care for me),” I said, “But she is an early sleeper. I did not want to wake her.” I will tell her first thing tomorrow morning. Have you ever been so close with someone that nothing feels real until you have told him or her? This is my relationship with lover.
Prima listens to my story with great patience, and adds her thoughts whenever there are openings. I am so involved into our conversation, I hold in my pee to chat with her even though I was already downstairs my building. Last time, Prima sized me up and said she knew 17% of all who I was. Now she says it is up to 17.5%, because she knows how I am like when I am drunk. I declared I was not, first of all, and then asked why she thought so. Prima responded by asking if I knew she drank with her friends. My answer was of course, yes, I know everything (even when I do not want to know anything).
Prima continued by explaining why she had been uncomfortable drinking with me. It is because she did not know me yet. I am a very simple person (and I do not care if the world disagrees), so I tell her, “With me, I either have people in or out of my life. If I let you in, I will not block you from going further in depth with me. If you want to know me, have all of me.” Prima affirmed to know this to be true. I told her that I was only tipsy, but definitely not drunk. She thought I was because I had been speaking louder on the phone with her than normal, but this was only due to my need to hear myself talking as I competed with traffic on the streets. When I would speak to her at home, I lower my voice also because I do not want to disturb my parents with my problematic personal life. If she wanted to know that 0.5% of me, I told her to get drunk with me and find out. I am quite interested in the findings too!
Sick of mind games for the night, I straight out ask Prima what was the motive with me. I cannot see what she put in front of me, obvious to herself and others, but not me. I gave her the analysis of other people in my life, which concludes that she likes me. Prima curiously asked if I thought the same, and I told her the reasons why I did not believe so, “I know your secret. You said I would be off if I tried to guess, and this conclusion would be one of the easiest to guess.” I know this, but I only know this much. I still had no clue what Prima can possibly want from me that I would not give if she asked.
Prima amusingly stated she only knew 17% of me and asked, “Would it be acceptable to have someone like 17% of you?” It was a rhetorical question. The proud and arrogant softrice declared all of him must be loved, and worthily so. She continued with another piercing rhetorical question, “What is it that you want from people, by being you, who you are now?” Does she want what I do, through different methodologies and applications? Prima undresses my behavior, “Do you not want to be known? I am the same. I want someone to know me.”
Lily understands the world in terms of relationships. Prima and I understand the world in terms of bonds. The title of a relationship does not regulate our interaction, but rather the meaningfulness that defines a relationship does. I can understand Prima’s need and relate, but I did not understand why she needs me. To achieve her goal, Prima can just as well nurture those she knew better to fulfill the role, like the ones already at 80% or 95%. I did not feel she needed to groom someone at a lowly 17%. My pride does not allow me to accept this reason, as I insist to believe Prima wants me to achieve something only I can give. This guessing game will continue into our foreseeable future.
In talks of what Prima was missing from me with the other percentages, she referred to her recent post on Xanga about masks. The masks we wear to face the public, when we social in a big gathering of friends or in business meetings with associates, these are a true part of us, in accordance with Prima’s point of view. I disagree. People are afraid to be themselves in public, due to peer pressure or a need to upkeep a celebrity image. They wear masks to protect themselves against attacks at who they are. The chemistry of someone in a group of friends is already different from when you are with him or her alone. This is why I stopped seeing people asides from the one to one setting.
Prima argues how fears define us. Clothes may be fashion, but they are also expressions of self, whether it is a conscious or subconscious statement. The disguises we choose to wear in public settings are just as material evidence of who we are. Masks are a real part of us. Prima is saddened to say she has never gotten to see this part of me, where I would interact in groups of people. (This is not entirely true. Remember the time we went to karaoke in Boston.)
It is not a secret that softrice has been incomplete after my fall. I suddenly realized where another piece of myself has been broken and gone missing. I no longer have or wear my masks. I thought I have been special, in concentrating my intimacy and confidence with a select few such as lover and Lily, but now I see there has never been anything to contrast against, for the difference in my treatment to take prominence. Though Prima identified this, I feel no urge to recover my masks.
To relieve myself of my biological needs, I asked Prima for a fifteen-minute break from our cellular conference, hung up, and teleported upstairs to pee. I changed afterward into comfortable sleepwear, hopped on bed, and called Prima again. She diagnosed that I was contradictory. On one side, I want to be a difference experience. On the other side, I compete against all your current experiences. I admit to be a dominating presence. I want to be the best of everything, and I want softrice to be an entirely difference experience. I said to her, “I am my contradictions.”
In between all of this, Prima arrived home and had her mom ask who was on the other line. Prima naturally said she was speaking with God. I made no such request for such an audacious revelation, and I had not expected such. Her mom asked if it was Vincent, but Prima corrected, “Not the false god. This is the true God!” I inquired if it was such a smart thing to share this secret with her mom, but Prima said she is tight with her, so it is all good. That must be nice.
“Success is too easy,” I told Prima. I do not want people to like me because of all the stereotypical positives you can think of. I am much more than that. I am not here to please everyone with who I am. I am fishing without bait, waiting to catch fish that is willingly hooked. There will be no opportune platforms of fate, for I take away all of those. People have to build the bridge to my fate. I will not play psychological games to get the people I want, though I can, because both the free will and meaning behind the relationship must be extant.
Prima understood my desire, though her judgment remained unspoken. I wanted to know her big business plan, but she only revealed another ambition. The club is her stepping-stone to advance her social causes, but this future is yet to be here, as she is currently unable to mobilize this vehicle. Prima spoke of past disappointments in motivating other members of the same sex to see and act for her vision. She referred to another Xanga post, which described how some ambitiously blind people simply take the most noble of causes as their own, yet are losers who do not know the first step to take in achieving said goals. Not everyone was born to be a leader and meant for greatness. It was my birthright, but I have already forfeited my greatness in pursuit of love. Will Prima and I arise to become the leaders of tomorrow?
We talked and talked, late into the darkness of the night, until our bodies were ready to pass out. Prima said she had not been sleeping well lately, with weird dreams inflicting her. She revealed herself as a believer in ghosts, confirmed through various personal encounters. Which demons dare harass my high priestess? My punishments sought its supernatural owners, but Prima postponed these testimonies to a later date, when softrice energy would replenish her body anew from sleep. My curiosity shall have to wait for its satisfaction.
Before Prima would accept slumber, she wanted me to take a personality test. It interested her to know how I think, and how I perceive the world. I agreed, and she sent me the link through Facebook to complete another day. We tried to say goodbye multiple times on the phone, but neither of us would hang up first, until I finally told her, “Cut the line.” Prima replied, “Good night, stranger.” Comforted to hear her farewell, I understood how some people get it, while others never will. I shower and fall asleep, waking up to a brave old world the next morning.
I received the link to the Keirsey Temperament, personality test, which Prima had sent me. I took it, answering all the questions, and came out as a Rational (NT). The test result says this about my personality type:
“All Rationals (NTs) share the following core characteristics:
- Rationals tend to be pragmatic, skeptical, self-contained, and focused on problem-solving and systems analysis.
- Rationals pride themselves on being ingenious, independent, and strong willed.
- Rationals make reasonable mates, individualizing parents, and strategic leaders.
- Rationals are even-tempered, they trust logic, yearn for achievement, seek knowledge, prize technology, and dream of understanding how the world works.
Rationals are the problem solving temperament, particularly if the problem has to do with the many complex systems that make up the world around us. Rationals might tackle problems in organic systems such as plants and animals, or in mechanical systems such as railroads and computers, or in social systems such as families and companies and governments. But whatever systems fire their curiosity, Rationals will analyze them to understand how they work, so they can figure out how to make them work better.
In working with problems, Rationals try to find solutions that have application in the real world, but they are even more interested in the abstract concepts involved, the fundamental principles or natural laws that underlie the particular case. And they are completely pragmatic about their ways and means of achieving their ends. Rationals don’t care about being politically correct. They are interested in the most efficient solutions possible, and will listen to anyone who has something useful to teach them, while disregarding any authority or customary procedure that wastes time and resources.
Rationals have an insatiable hunger to accomplish their goals and will work tirelessly on any project they have set their mind to. They are rigorously logical and fiercely independent in their thinking – are indeed skeptical of all ideas, even their own – and they believe they can overcome any obstacle with their will power. Often they are seen as cold and distant, but this is really the absorbed concentration they give to whatever problem they’re working on. Whether designing a skyscraper or an experiment, developing a theory or a prototype technology, building an aircraft, a corporation, or a strategic alliance, Rationals value intelligence, in themselves and others, and they pride themselves on the ingenuity they bring to their problem solving.
Rationals are very scarce, comprising as little as 7 to 10 percent of the population. But because of their drive to unlock the secrets of nature, and to develop new technologies, they have done much to shape our world.
Rationals at Work
As a Rational, you seek to acquire and apply expertise. You thrive in an autonomous and intellectually stimulating workplace, working alongside other competent people, pursuing knowledge or creating systems. Your core need to follow the driving force of your own intelligence leads to particular career challenges. For example, recognition of your expertise may lead to your being put “in charge” of other people, as a manager, when you might prefer to remain immersed in projects of your own.
You are fascinated with developing strategic plans for others to use. In your preferred environment, you work behind the scenes while someone else takes the active leadership role. Often, you are driven to step in as leader when you become impatient with the way a project is going. In your ideal job, you independently analyze systems and make recommendations about how objectives will best be reached; someone else does the work of delegating work, motivating people, or enforcing work duties. You want challenge in your work and become frustrated when asked to merely follow routines, especially if those routines are inefficient.
Albert Einstein, Marie Curie, Bill Gates, Margaret Thatcher, Walt Disney, Camille Paglia, Ayn Rand, Thomas Jefferson, Richard Feynman, and General Ulysses S. Grant and President Dwight D. Eisenhower are examples of Rationals.”
Being a Rational reads great. Albert Einstein is an iconic example of one, and he was the founder of the law of relativity! I think of the world in relative terms, in case you have not noticed. It is great to share the same qualities with Bill Gates. Thomas Jefferson and I share the same affection for good, expensive Sauternes. I loved reading the epistolary book Danielle gave me, which was by Richard Feynman! I am determined to have my name on this list for the next generation of personality test takers!
I gave my results to Prima, and she excitedly yelled, “Get out!” I am the only other Rational she knows, with the other being herself. There are four types of Rationals, which are Inventor (ENTP), Architect (INTP), Fieldmarshal (ENTJ), and Mastermind (INTJ). Prima is an Inventor (ENTP), which reads as follows:
“Inventors begin building gadgets and mechanisms as young children, and never really stop, though as adults they will turn their inventiveness to many kinds of organizations, social as well as mechanical. There aren’t many Inventors, say about two percent of the population, but they have great impact on our everyday lives. With their innovative, entrepreneurial spirit, Inventors are always on the lookout for a better way, always eyeing new projects, new enterprises, new processes. Always aiming to “build a better mousetrap.”
Inventors are keenly pragmatic, and often become expert at devising the most effective means to accomplish their ends. They are the most reluctant of all the types to do things in a particular manner just because that’s the way they have been done. As a result, they often bring fresh, new approaches to their work and play. They are intensely curious and continuously probe for possibilities, especially when trying to solve complex problems. Inventors are filled with ideas, but value ideas only when they make possible actions and objects. Thus they see product design not as an end in itself, but as a means to an end, as a way of devising the prototype that works and that can be brought to market. Inventors are confident in their pragmatism, counting on their ability to find effective ways and means when they need them, rather than making a detailed blueprint in advance. A rough idea is all they need to feel ready to proceed into action.
Inventors often have a lively circle of friends and are interested in their ideas and activities. They are usually easygoing, seldom critical or carping. Inventors can be engaging conversationalists, able to express their own complicated ideas and to follow the ideas of others. When arguing issues, however, they may deliberately employ debate skills to the serious disadvantage of their opponents.
Inventors are usually non-conformists in the workplace, and can succeed in many areas as long as the job does not involve too much humdrum routine. They make good leaders on pilot projects that test their ingenuity. And they are skilled at engineering human relationships and human systems, quickly grasping the politics of institutions and always wanting to understand the people within the system rather than tell them what to do. No matter what their occupation, however, Inventors display an extraordinary talent for rising to the demands of even the most impossible situations. “It can’t be done” is a challenge an Inventor and elicits a reaction of “I can do it.”"
Prima straight out said I am not a Fieldmarshal (ENTJ), which I quickly agreed, because I did not even know what the description was saying:
“Of the four aspects of strategic analysis and definition it is marshaling or situational organizing role that reaches the highest development in the Fieldmarshal. As this kind of role is practiced some contingency organizing is necessary, so that the second suit of the Fieldmarshal’s intellect is devising contingency plans. Structural and functional engineering, though practiced in some degree in the course of organizational operations, tend to be not nearly as well developed and are soon outstripped by the rapidly growing skills in organizing. But it must be said that any kind of strategic exercise tends to bring added strength to engineering as well as organizing skills.
Hardly more than two percent of the total population, Fieldmarshals are bound to lead others, and form an early age they can be observed taking command of groups. In some cases, they simply find themselves in charge of groups, and are mystified as to how this happened. But the reason is that they have a strong natural urge to give structure and direction wherever they are – to harness people in the field and to direct them to achieve distant goals. They resemble Supervisors in their tendency to establish plans for a task, enterprise, or organization, but Fieldmarshals search more for policy and goals than for regulations and procedures.
They cannot not build organizations, and cannot not push to implement their goals. When in charge of an organization, whether in the military, business, education, or government, Fieldmarshals more than any other type desire (and generally have the ability) to visualize where the organization is going, and they seem able to communicate that vision to others. Their organizational and coordinating skills tends to be highly developed, which means that they are likely to be good at systematizing, ordering priorities, generalizing, summarizing, at marshaling evidence, and at demonstrating their ideas. Their ability to organize, however, may be more highly developed than their ability to analyze, and the Fieldmarshal leader may need to turn to an Inventor or Architect to provide this kind of input.
Fieldmarshals will usually rise to positions of responsibility and enjoy being executives. They are tireless in their devotion to their jobs and can easily block out other areas of life for the sake of their work. Superb administrators in any field – medicine, law, business, education, government, the military – Fieldmarshals organize their units into smooth-functioning systems, planning in advance, keeping both short-term and long-range objectives well in mind. For the Fieldmarshal, there must always be a goal-directed reason for doinga nything, and people’s feelings usually are not sufficient reason. They prefer decisions to be based on impersonal data, want to work from well thought-out plans, like to use engineered operations – and they expect others to follow suit. They are ever intent on reducing bureaucratic red tape, task redundancy, and aimless confusion in the workplace, and they are willing to dismiss employees who cannot get with the program and increase their efficiency. Although Fieldmarshals are tolerant of established procedures, they can and will abandon any procedure when it can be shown to be ineffective in accomplishing its goal. Fieldmarshals root out and reject ineffectiveness and inefficiency, and are impatient with repetition of error.”
At first, Prima tells me I may be a Mastermind (INTJ), but later confirms to be otherwise. I would have chosen this same one, out of the four, blindly based on their titles. It sounds the best, but as you read on its details, a Mastermind is pretty boring and uninteresting:
“All Rationals are good at planning operations, but Masterminds are head and shoulders above all the rest in contingency planning. Complex operations involve many steps or stages, one following another in a necessary progression, and Masterminds are naturally able to grasp how each one leads to the next, and to prepare alternatives for difficulties that are likely to arise any step of the way. Trying to anticipate every contingency, Masterminds never set of on their current project without a Plan A firmly in mind, but they are always prepared to switch to Plan B or C or D if need be.
Masterminds are rare, comprising no more than, say, one percent of the population, and they are rarely encountered outside their office, factory, school, or laboratory. Although they are highly capable leaders, Masterminds are not at all eager to take command, preferring to stay in the background until others demonstrate their inability to lead. Once they take charge, however, they are thoroughgoing pragmatists. Masterminds are certain that efficiency is indispensable in a well-run organization, and if they encounter inefficiency – any waste of human and material resources – they are quick to realign operations and reassign personnel. Masterminds do not feel bound by established rules and procedures, and traditional authority does not impress them, nor do slogans or catchwords. Only ideas that make sense to them are adopted; those that don’t, aren’t, no matter who thought of them. Remember, their aim is always maximum efficiency.
In their careers, Masterminds usually rise to positions of responsibility, for they work long and hard and are dedicated in their pursuit of goals, sparing neither their own time and effort nor that of their colleagues and employees. Problem-solving is highly stimulating to Masterminds, who love responding to tangled systems that require careful sorting out. Ordinarily, they verbalize the positive and avoid comments of a negative nature; they are more interested in moving an organization forward than dwelling on mistakes of the past.
Masterminds tend to be much more definite and self-confident than other Rationals, having usually developed a very strong will. Decisions come easily to them; in fact, they can hardly rest until they have things settled and decided. But before they decide anything, they must do the research. Masterminds are highly theoretical, but they insist on looking at all available data before they embrace an idea, and they are suspicious of any statement that is based on shoddy research, or that is not checked against reality.”
Conclusively, Prima corrects her earlier guess and believes I am an Architect (INTP). In her opinion anyway, she says. I grinned and agreed with her, after reviewing the respective description:
“Architects need not be thought of as only interested in drawing blueprints for buildings or roads or bridges. They are master designers of all kinds of theoretical systems, including school curricula, corporate strategies, and new technologies. For Architects, the world exists primarily to be analyzed, understood, explained – and re-designed. External reality in itself is unimportant, little more than raw materials to be organized into structural models. What is important for Architects is that they grasp fundamental principles and natural laws, and that their designs are elegant, that is, efficient and coherent.
Architects are rare – maybe one percent of the population – and show the greatest precision in thought and speech of all the types. They tend to see distinctions and inconsistencies instantaneously, and can detect contradictions no matter when or where they were made. It is difficult for an Architect to listen to nonsense, even in a casual conversation, without pointing out the speaker’s error. And in any serious discussion or debate Architects are devastating, their skill in framing arguments giving them enormous advantage. Architects regard all discussions as a search for understanding, and believe their function to eliminate inconsistencies, which can make communication with them an uncomfortable experience for many.
Ruthless pragmatists about ideas, and insatiably curious, Architects are driven to find the most efficient means to their ends, and they will learn in any manner and degree they can. They will listen to amateurs if their ideas are useful, and will ignore the experts if theirs are not. Authority derived from office, credential, or celebrity does not impress them. Architects are interested only in what make sense, and thus only statements that are consistent and coherent carry any weight with them.
Architects often seem difficult to know. They are inclined to be shy except with close friends, and their reserve is difficult to penetrate. Able to concentrate better than any other type, they prefer to work quietly at their computers or drafting tables, and often alone. Architects also become obsessed with analysis, and this can seem to shut others out. Once caught up in a thought process, Architects close off and persevere until they comprehend the issue in all its complexity. Architects prize intelligence, and with their grand desire to grasp the structure of the universe, they can seem arrogant and may show impatience with others who have less ability, or who are less driven.”
Wow was my expression when I realized this is who I am in Prima’s eyes. “You really do believe I am creator of the cosmos,” I laughingly said to her. Prima enthusiastically responded, “I do! I do!” I added that Architect sounds about just right, which describes me best over the other personality types. Albert Einstein, the iconic Rational, was an Architect too!
Lover is most anxious over my career prospects, so I got some information on how Rationals are at work. “Many of our early Presidents were Rationals, such as John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and James Monroe. A common characteristic is a vision of the future and the ability to make that vision come true.” I told you I am a futurist! This confirms it!
Even though Inventors like Prima are the most outgoing, “[t]he most reserved of the Rationals is the Architect (INTP). They store huge amounts of information in their heads and can analyze problems with great insight. They are often drawn to professions where they can be their own bosses, such as optometrist, plastic surgeon, neurologist, or scientist. They may become lawyers, architects, or financial analysts. Many are found in the higher levels of academia in such fields as archeology, chemistry, philosophy, or mathematics. They may show a strong creative bent as a musician, inventor, or photographer. Some restore antiques or old cars.”
“The drive towards constantly increasing their knowledge base and being highly competent is what gives Rationals a sense of personal satisfaction.” I should mention, softrice derives even greater personal satisfaction when I am highly competent at constantly increasing lover’s happiness, especially during times when we share the fortune of being together.
An axiomatic continued interest to all, in terms of Rational men in romance, “[s]ome Rationals seem so cold and logical that it’s hard to imagine them doing something as frivolous as falling in love. Most Rationals do not express the range of emotions other types do because they keep their emotions tightly in check, usually showing them only to those closest to them. Getting a Rational to open up and show their tender side can be a great challenge, one many women find intriguing.
Rationals are the least likely types to remember important days, such as anniversaries, birthdays, and holidays. However, they do tend to be steadfast, being among the most committed. Their partners can expect intellectual stimulation, debating from multiple perspectives, and a lot of autonomy. Rationals are the most likely types to treat their partners as equal in adult status.”
I am happily in love with life once again, every time I refresh my memory on how much lover has accomplished with me, and how we are living the love story of a Pisces and a Sagittarius.
Always in a puff of smoke,
softrice
